


Flowers

by Just_Rocket_Science



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Angst, Flower Symbolism, M/M, Melkor's pov, POV First Person, Poetry, mild body horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-19 09:13:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29997132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Just_Rocket_Science/pseuds/Just_Rocket_Science
Summary: Melkor's worldview is changed, after the Silmarils. Mairon suffers the worst of it.
Relationships: Morgoth Bauglir | Melkor/Sauron | Mairon
Kudos: 13





	Flowers

**Author's Note:**

> I've actually written a lot of poetry for this fandom, but I never considered posting it until now? So let's see how this goes

Little flame, dancing in the dark,  
Curled eyelashes, bloody lips,  
Your wounds taste like lavender,  
Your bruises like crushed honeysuckle.

I would cover you in flowers,  
Nettles, perhaps, to crown that pretty face,  
Peach blossoms that you would lay with trembling fingertips at my feet,  
Or tulips, their yellow petals scarred and discolored.

We would shred violets beneath our feet,  
Their sharp scent pains you, I see it in the shine of your eyes,  
Look at me, little flame, look at me as you pick nettles with aching hands,  
They sting you, do they not? Hush, do not spill senseless tears.

Your fingers are swollen, aching,  
Would it make the pain go away, if I broke your delicate hands?  
If I grew petunias in your cracked bones?  
If I filled your lungs with golden laburnums?

White narcissus to rest against your red lips,  
Blood on the soft snow of our bedsheets,  
You sleep with peach blossoms in your hair,  
I crush them as I caress your head.

Come, little flame, do not cry,  
The flowers are dead, your tears will not water them,  
Your pain cannot be so great,   
The hibiscuses growing from your skin are too delicate to hurt.

Do you not think they are so beautiful?  
The soft petals, so bright against your skin,  
You are my little porcelain doll, my perfect experiment,  
I want only the best for you. I want only for you to love yourself as I do.

You lay amongst holly now,  
Your skin red with miniature cuts,  
Crimson against dark, vivacious green,  
I kiss your lips as you choke on marigolds.

Your form is lithe beneath me,  
As we crush fragile petals between our bodies,  
Their scent is bitter, and your pale hands tremble,  
Raw, cracked knuckles, adorned in roses.

My darling flame, don’t cry,  
See the beauty in the flowers that tarnish your skin,   
I want only what is best for you,   
Why can’t you see that I’m right?

**Author's Note:**

> Comments/kudos are much appreciated! <3


End file.
